September 29, 2006

... but now it isn't even it anymore. You've just constructed a replica of it... and therefore: a monument to your folly.

It was a delicate undertaking, one that required rubberized protective jumpsuits, long tables of medical equipment and more than 224 gallons of formaldehyde. The goal: to replace the decaying tiger shark that floats in one of Mr. Hirst’s best-known works of Conceptual art, “The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living.”...

[A]s a result of inadequate preservation efforts, time was not kind to the original, which slowly decomposed until its form changed, its skin grew deeply wrinkled, and the solution in the tank turned murky....

Mr. Hirst acknowledges that once the shark is replaced, art historians will argue that the piece cannot be considered the same artwork.

Yes, exactly.

“It’s a big dilemma,’’ he said. “Artists and conservators have different opinions about what’s important: the original artwork or the original intention. I come from a Conceptual art background, so I think it should be the intention. It’s the same piece. But the jury will be out for a long time to come.’’

People have often asked me how I could go from art school to law school, art being so far removed from law, so very unlike it. But, no, it's not, is it? Original intention. What a wonderful phrase for finessing your interpretation! And may I suggest to Mr. Hirst the notion of a living artwork? Now, that could get you everything you ever want.

Revenant's comment reminds me of a short story by Borges which pretends at being a critic writing on someone else who wrote, word-for-word, _Don Quixote_, and how much better the new _Quixote_ is given the writer's background....

Revenant: You're just saying you don't like this particular artwork. That's irrelevant to the original/replica problem. Let's say someone pays $1 million for the manuscript of a book and it's destroyed in a fire. Substituting a xerox of the manuscript might make that person feel somewhat better, but he's lost his investment. To say, well, it wasn't a good book is beside the point.

I've often thought my undergraduate work in English was so similar to legal practice, and yet many people don't see that at all. Literary deconstruction is statutory interpretation! Read every word, every comma for meaning. Interpret them to suit your purposes... subvert them on your client's behalf. The only difference is that judges don't give credit for outrageous creativity. Not true of the academy, it seems.All the liberal arts are so important to understanding law! I detest those who think it's like learning a computer science, where you just plug the numbers in to see what comes out of the machine.

Well, you have to first decide what art is, and what qualifies something as a piece of art.

The classic commentary on this is the idea of contextualism. If the only way you can identify a piece of art is to see it in a gallery, then the context is part of the piece.

Taking that piece of art out of that context requires you to then either hold the piece in an internal context, identifying it as "art", or to place it in another context to clearly identify it as "art". A painting is clearly a piece of "art" good, bad or indifferent no matter if you see it in a gallery or an outhouse.

A pickled shark, on the other hand, requires a hefty dose of context or a really big sign stating: "This is an $8m piece of art" to explain it's qualification of art.

John Cage, for instance, took this to extremes, employing totally random, non musical sounds to create "music".

The pain of the shark's owner escapes me, other than perhaps the profound realization he might have time to time that he doesnt really know what "art" is.